


Cosmogyral

by Squidpond



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Cameos from Tellius cats, F/F, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squidpond/pseuds/Squidpond
Summary: a gold digger, an edgy knife fanatic, a hardcore knitter, an anti-aging cream test subject, and a space furry work together to reclaim the flame tribe[a sci-fi heist au]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mericorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mericorn/gifts).



_CONGRATULATIONS_ _!_ , the generic hack-and-slash game proclaimed, huge letters scrolling across the watch station's wall-length holographic screen. _YOU WON!_

Charlotte sighed, leaning back into her chair. She exited out of the game with a few half-hearted hand gestures, the cold light of the default desktop background casting bluish shadows throughout the control room. Hooking her ankle underneath the desk to prevent herself from toppling backwards, she tilted the chair until she could make eye contact with the man sitting in the corner of the room. He dwarfed the tiny armchair he was folded in; he had a set of knitting needles in his hands, and several balls of differently colored yarn balanced on his lap. Taking up the remaining space was one of the station's three cats, sound asleep.

The knitting needles clacked, the cat purred, and a maintenance bot made its leisurely way through the vents. Charlotte's free foot rapped a nervous rhythm on the floor. "Benny, I'm bored."

The man hummed his acknowledgement. He kept knitting. He was making a tea coaster, it appeared. It looked like there was going to be a cute bear pattern across it, from what Charlotte could see. Benny's hand left his project for a few seconds to caress the cat's head; it glowed in appreciation—literally glowed, a soft pink light emitting from beneath its orange fur. Genetic engineering was everywhere, these days.

Charlotte tipped the chair further back, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "Benny, I'm _so bored_ ," she repeated. "We've been stuck on this tiny little asteroid for months and literally _nothing_ _has happened_."

He didn't even look up, the bastard. "We aren't on an asteroid. Asteroids are too small to have atmospheres, even with artificial gravity. We'd have suffocated in seconds."

"Wow, okay, fine. We've been stuck on this fucking tiny-ass _dwarf planet_ for fucking months and the closest thing to an intruder we've gotten was that asshole fly that spawned from fuck knows where. Are you happy now, _Professor Benoit_?"

"Quite," Benoit said demurely.

Knitting needles. Cat. Maintenance bot. Charlotte's leg was jittering so hard, it could've put a caffeinated college student to shame.

"I'm gonna go punch some things," Charlotte declared.

"Okay," Benoit said. "Don't forget your gloves."

\- -

Charlotte's shoes clicked on the floor of their makeshift training room as she walked across the warehouse, slipping a pair of polyleather gloves on. The stereo she'd unearthed was blaring some ancient song from hundreds of years ago—one of those ungainly silver discs had still been inside of the thing, and she'd played it out of sheer curiosity.

...That had been a week ago. She had to admit, this album was pretty catchy. What was the artist's name—Madonna? Hadn't she been like, the center of some Earth-Prime religion or something? No wonder she gained so many followers, with a voice like that.

_Some boys kiss me_

_Some boys hug me_

_I think they're okay_

Left jab, right uppercut, front kick. Right cross, left hook, roundhouse kick. The training AI, usually chattering with tips and tricks, had long had its voice clips replaced with various grunts and cries of pain—it was much more satisfying that way, you see. Why else would she want to get all sweaty and unappealing, if not to appease her inner sadist?

_If they don't give me proper credit_

_I just walk away_

She landed a punishing side kick, sending the dummy skittering across the floor. It righted itself, and attempted to say something along the lines of "good, continue". Instead, what came out was a slightly deadpan "come at me, motherfucker".

Charlotte grinned. What could she say, she liked her sparring partners _feisty_.

_They can beg and they can plead_

_But they can't see the light (that's right)_

She pursued the dummy, dodging underneath an invisible blow and rising with a swift uppercut. An arcing crescent kick with her right foot left it wobbling, and the consecutive left hook sent it toppling onto the floor. Victoriously, Charlotte planted her foot on top of it, chest heaving in exertion as the dummy begged for mercy beneath her.

The dummy. The AI. The leather sack of silicon that she was gloating over like a dog with a chewed-up toy. Disgusted, she kicked it away from her, the dummy sliding across the floor to rest against the wall.

_'Cause the boy with the cold hard cash_

_Is always Mister Right—_

There was the sound of shattering glass, a grand resounding _crash_ , and then the music squealed to a halt. Charlotte whirled around, expecting to see one of the cats, or a meteorite, or _anything,_ really, other than the white-haired woman that was extracting herself from the remnants of the stereo. Countless cuts, most of them probably from the broken glass, trailed angry crimson down her tawny skin. She drew two daggers from sheaths strapped to her thighs, both of them already stained with a reddish tint that was decidedly not rust. What was this, a comic book?

A million thoughts were blaring inside of Charlotte's head, ranging from "who the fuck" to "this was not the right day to leave my gun in my room" to "hot _damn_ ", but all of those were put aside in favor of squawking, "That was my favorite verse you interrupted, you know."

The woman flinched and side-eyed her, as if she'd only just noticed that there was another person in the room. "Fuck that," she said, her accent definitely not Nohrian. Though she didn't _look_ Hoshidan, either. "You Nohrians hate Hoshidans, yes? There are some Hoshidans pursuing me. I request your assistance with dispatching them." Ah. Not Hoshidan, then.

Charlotte was halfway through replying "don't tell me what to do", when three more people leapt through the remnants of the windows, scattering the remaining glass across the floor. These ones, however, had guns.

All three of them trained their rifles (shit, were those _railguns_?) on the woman. "Rinkah of the Flame Tribe," a male voice filtered through the headpiece of the center soldier, slightly grainy. (Charlotte felt slightly miffed and slightly honored that the Hoshidans thought that Nohrians were such monsters that they breathed something other than oxygen.) "Surrender yourself to our custody, and you will not be harmed."

Rinkah snarled at them. "The Flame Tribe never surrenders," she spat. "Kill me if you must."

"Killing you would be counterproductive," the Hoshidan said. "...However, a few bullet holes would not interfere with our plans."

" _Fuck you_ ," Rinkah screamed, her daggers raised in front of her as if she believed she could deflect railgun-propelled bullets with sheer force of will.

The Hoshidan's contempt was nearly visible through his polarized helmet. "I see," he sighed. "An unsurprising response. However, protocol is protocol." He raised his hand to signal, his fingers curled into his palm. "Fire—"

"Hell, am I just invisible to all of you window-breaking freaks?" Charlotte snapped, smashing a metal pipe into the back of the leader's head. He crumpled, and she swung at the soldier next to him, knocking the rifle out of their hands. "It's not polite to ignore a lady, you know!" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rinkah rushing the remaining soldier, gutting him through his suit with her daggers. At least _someone_ around here understood the disadvantages of the long pre-battle speech.

The disarmed soldier pulled a phaser out of their thigh sheath, firing wildly at Charlotte. She lunged to the side just a moment too late—the beam glanced past the top of her shoulder, the stench of burnt flesh flooding nauseatingly into her senses. In the half second it took for the beam to recharge, however, she was darting towards the soldier, a well-placed leg sweep sending them falling to the ground. A downwards strike of the pipe to their face seemed to knock them out, though Charlotte kicked their phaser a good distance away, just in case.

"Well," she said breathlessly, throwing the pipe somewhere off to the side. It clattered loudly, the sound bouncing across the walls of the warehouse. She turned around, hands on her hips. " _Rinkah of the Flame Tribe_ , eh? What brings _you_ here to this wonderful—"

Blood splattered across her torso as the first soldier she'd throttled got his neck freshly split open, the knife he'd been attempting to stick into Charlotte's skull dropped onto the ground by his rapidly loosening fingers. Charlotte skittered back to avoid the falling corpse, her hand rising reflexively to touch the sticky redness sprayed across her cheek.

Rinkah wiped her daggers off on her clothes, but made no move to sheathe them. "You're welcome," she said.

Charlotte spluttered. " _I'm_ welcome? You should be the one thanking _me_ , you ingrate! One, you broke my stereo; two, you brought these three musketeers here; and—we can't forget this—three, I saved your _sorry ass_ —"

The door burst open, and both women whirled to face it, crouching into fighting stances. Charlotte cringed. Why did she think it was a good idea to throw away that pipe; now she had to bring fists to a gun fight like an _idiot—_

"CHARLOTTE!" Benoit shouted, three guns already slung across his chest. "THE BORDER'S BEEN BREACHED BY—oh. Is that blood on your face? Are those the intruders on the ground? Are they...dead?"

"Eh," Charlotte said, shrugging. "Two of them are going to bleed out pretty soon, and the third one's probably got some permanent brain damage. We should probably get that one in handcuffs soon, though; they might wake up in a few minutes." She jabbed a thumb towards the remaining person. "That's Rinkah. She's from the Flame Tribe. The Hoshidans didn't like her, so she can't be all that bad."

Rinkah crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes hostilely. The setting sun's sharp rays reflecting off the blood-stained blades of her daggers really didn't help with her supposedly being "not that bad", either. Benoit clearly agreed, because slowly moved his hand towards his phaser. "Charlotte, step away from that suspicious person. You're going to get stabbed."

"I'd like to see her try," Charlotte sneered, but turned toward Rinkah anyways. "Though...just to make sure, you won't stab me, right?"

"Not without prior warning," Rinkah assured her.

"And there we go. She's more considerate than the cats!" Charlotte beamed winningly at Benoit, who shifted uncomfortably.

Rinkah inclined her head. "The Land of Fire is a neutral territory. We will not move against other countries without provocation. Hoshido, on the other hand, had no such qualms. We were recently invaded by Hoshidan forces, and I am here to request the aid of Nohr in reclaiming our land."

Charlotte grinned. "What do you think, Benny? Craving a little excitement in your schedule? A little head-thrashing, ass-kicking fun?"

Benoit scowled. "That's just _you_. I'm perfectly content _right here_ , thank you very much."

"Aww, you'd leave little ol' me to take on all those scary Hoshidans by myself?" Charlotte sniffled, an effect rather lessened by the blood streaked across her face and splattered across her clothes.

"You can't just make decisions like _taking on the whole of Hoshido_ _by yourself_ on a whim like that!"

"Actually," Rinkah interjected, "It's _probably_ not the _whole_ of Hoshido. So far, it seems that it's just one man and his personal army."

"An _army—_ Benoit scrubbed his hand over his face. "Listen, let's talk about this _after_ we clean things up around here." With his free hand, he gestured for one of the robots to take the unconscious soldier to the holding cells. "I suppose, since the Flame Tribe is neutral, we have no reason to imprison her...she _did_ breach the border without requesting entry, though, so." He sighed. "Miss Rinkah, you won't be restrained, but you're going to have to be accompanied by one of us at all times, for as long as you're here."

"That's fine," Rinkah said, finally putting away those daggers of hers.

"Great. Okay." Benoit exhaled tightly. "Now that _that's_ taken care of—there's a Hoshidan mothership hovering just outside our borders, and we need to do something about it."

\- -

"Alright, bitches, let's do this." Charlotte cracked her knuckles, kicking the chair away from the dashboard in favor of leaning too close to the microphone. (Benoit silently turned on the courtesy-filter AI.) A gel pad was plastered onto her injured shoulder; her skin tingled lightly as the nanobots inside of the gel sprayed cell-growth stimulators around the wound. She stuck her finger on the button that would open up communications and cleared her throat loudly. “Do any of you Hoshidan dogs care to explain why you've paid us _such_ a lovely visit today?" (The AI processed her words for a second then transmitted, “Please state your reason for trespassing our borders.” Boring.)

“A prisoner of ours escaped,” a voice slid out of the speakers, slimy in the way only Hoshidan voices could be. “We were attempting to retrieve her. We request that Nohr transports her back over the border.”

"Yeah? Care to describe this prisoner of yours?"

"Of course. The prisoner is Rinkah, a daughter of the Flame Tribe. She is a female of average height and medium skin tone, with white hair and red eyes. She has no firearms on her person, though she is reported to be armed with two daggers."

Charlotte scoffed. “Uh-huh. Mind telling me why a member of the Flame Tribe, a _neutral nation_ , is supposedly your prisoner?”

There was a lengthy pause. "The internal affairs of Hoshido are of no significance to a Nohrian border guard."

Charlotte slammed her hand on the dashboard, turning around to stare incredulously at the other two people in the room. "Listen, you shitheads, the _internal affairs of Hoshido_ sure as _hell_ are 'significant' to a _Nohrian border guard_ like me, seeing as one of your soldiers tried to _split my head open_."

"...Our apologies. They were not supposed to attack anyone except for the prisoner. However, we are still under no obligation to explain Hoshido's purpose to you."

"Well, Nohr is under no obligation to hand your 'prisoner' back over. For all _we_ know, she's some poor girl you dirty perverts abducted off the street." (Rinkah shot her a filthy glare.) "Now get your ass out of no-man's-land and back into Hoshido, fuckers, before we _make you_." The AI chose that exact moment to glitch, and without any further delay Charlotte's message tumbled, unaltered, into the Hoshidan ship.

A swell of chatter. "Those are fighting words, girl," the Hoshidan growled. The AI beeped apologetically as it rebooted.

A beat passed as realization set in. " _Oh my god_ ," Benoit hissed, digging his fingers into his hair. " _Charlotte!_ "

Charlotte glanced at him, then turned back to the microphone. If there was one thing she was good at, it was talking big. (She waved the courtesy AI off—she'd already careened past the point of no return like a drunkard chasing after a married woman, and no amount of futile diplomacy was going to save her now.) "They're not going to be just words, soon enough, if you don't get the _hell_ out of here. You've just opened fire, unprovoked, on Nohrian territory, and if Castle Krakenburg finds out—well, have fun explaining to that cute little queen of yours why your kingdom's burning down. Meanwhile, if you turn around like good little doggies and go home, we'll write this incident off as the work of rogue bandits, intercepted and resolved. Doesn't _that_ sound great? Hey, I'm feeling pretty nice today, I'll even send the bodies of your men back over—surely you'd like to give them a nice Hoshidan burial, right?"

An excruciatingly long pause. The complete silence from the other end indicated that they'd turned off their microphone—there must've been a lot of politicians on that ship, if they were taking so long. (Benny was slowly curling up into a fetal position. If he pulled any harder on his hair, he'd probably go bald.) Finally, the speakers clicked on again, and the same voice from before coughed lightly. "We agree to your terms, Nohrian. We will return to Hoshido as soon as our men are delivered to us. If you _do_ happen to see the Flame Tribe girl...please remind her that while she's on her quaint little vacation in Nohr, her people are still starving." The speakers went dead, and Charlotte let out a rather undignified yelp as Rinkah barreled out of her chair and shoved Charlotte aside.

Charlotte was barely able to complete the termination hand gesture in time before Rinkah was screaming profanities into the (now thankfully muted) microphone. " _Fucking hell_ , do you _want_ to die?" Charlotte snarled, rubbing her back as she got up from the floor. “Those Hoshidans were out for your blood! Even as _amazingly badass_ as we are, a blast from a ship like that would fucking _vaporize_ us.”

“They would do no such thing," Rinkah growled, turning ruby eyes on Charlotte. The gel pads that Benny had plastered all over her body only somewhat diminished the hostility of her words. "They need me alive, if they aim to accomplish anything."

Charlotte threw her hands up into the air. “So you don't care what happens to me and Benny? I should just kill you _myself_ , if this is how you're going to be, because as much as I said otherwise, Krakenberg really wouldn't give _two shits_ if this asteroid—”

“Dwarf planet,” Benoit interjected.

Charlotte blinked, off balance for the second time in barely a minute. “Dwa—what?”

“We’re on a dwarf planet, not an asteroid. Asteroids aren't massive enough to have atmospheres.”

“...Are we seriously still on this topic?”

“We will be _off_ this topic when you finally get your terminology right,” Benoit huffed. The situation successfully defused, he pulled up the system command on the control room’s main screen with a few flicks of his fingers. A keyboard slid out of the wall, and he pulled it into his lap, tapping out instructions to package the three intruders into oxygenated pods and launch them out of the station towards the Hoshidan mothership. The system beeped as it began to execute his orders, and he pushed the keyboard back into the wall. A rotation of his wrist brought the map of the world onto the screen, and a flex of his palm zoomed the view into a cluster of four single-person fighter jets, one crashed and smoking on the ground. Benoit glanced at Rinkah. "I'm guessing that that one is yours? And the other three are the Hoshidans'?"

Rinkah nodded silently.

Exiting out of the map, Benoit swiveled his chair so that he faced the other two. "Alright, let's do our introductions first, and then you two'll go wash up, and then we'll discuss this hare-brained Flame Tribe reclaiming plan _without_ the blood caked all over your clothes." He tipped his head at Charlotte. "You go first."

"I'm Charlotte," she said, "and I'm going to beat you up if you pull something like that again."

"I'm Rinkah," Rinkah replied, "and I'd like to see you try."

"I'm Benoit," Benoit bemoaned, "and all I wanted was a nice, peaceful job." He sighed deeply, then brightened, clapping his hands. "Right, we can't forget about the most important people here! Ranulf! Lethe! Lyre!"

"They aren't even people," Charlotte muttered, as three cats trotted into the control room, smearing themselves over Benoit as if he were some sort of human catnip. (She wouldn't be surprised, at this point, if he was.)

"The blue one is Ranulf, the green one is Lethe, and the pink one is Lyre," Benoit informed Rinkah.

Rinkah squinted. "I see a blue one and two orange ones."

Benoit fondled the heads of the two orange ones, and they lit up.

"Ah.” Rinkah said, and left it at that.

A minute of silence passed while they watched the cats collectively try to meld into Benoit’s body by sheer force.

Charlotte cleared her throat. “While Benny has his moment, let's go shower.”

Rinkah made a sound of agreement, and followed Charlotte out of the room.

\- -

"What. Is that."

Charlotte quirked an eyebrow. "A shower?"

"I don't know about you, but in the Land of Fire, showers involve a _showerhead_ and _elbow room_." Rinkah pointed at the shower pod. " _That_ thing is a _torture device_."

" _That_ thing is _efficient_ ," Charlotte countered, already peeling off her clothes. She tossed them into the hamper, which whirred as it analyzed the type and level of filth. With a few disapproving beeps, it started the wash cycle, a diagram on its face indicating its process. Charlotte closed her eyes and stepped into the shower, loosely lifting her arms above her head.

As soon as the door closed, nozzles extended out of the walls from all angles, enveloping her in cleansing foam. High-power jets of water followed soon after, making several passes up and down her body before retracting into the walls. Hot air flooded from newly-opened vents, and after a few seconds she stepped out of the pod, accepting her freshly cleaned clothes from the neatly folded pile on the hamper.

"Your turn," she said, pulling her shirt over her head.

"Hell no." Rinkah cringed, stepping away from the pod as if it were going to reach over and bite her.

Charlotte smirked. "Aw, are you _scared?_ " she cooed. "Is Nohrian technology too _advanced_ for tribal denizens like yourself?"

" _Hell no_ ," Rinkah repeated, eyes flashing. She all but ripped her clothes off of herself in her haste to get in, throwing them into the hamper with enough force to knock over a lesser machine. (Her daggers, meanwhile, were placed delicately to the side.) She stomped into the shower pod, glaring at Charlotte. "Hey, why hasn't it started ye—" Her voice dissolved into muffled shouts as the shower pod went through the wash cycle, and she stumbled back outside before the steam had even fully dissipated, rubbing at her soap-violated eyes. "You Nohrians are _insane_ ," she gasped.

Charlotte stifled her laughter behind her hand. "Yeah, we get that a lot. But hey, we gotta keep up our torture-room aesthetic _somehow_." She passed Rinkah's clothes to her and picked up the daggers, weighing them in her hand. "So what's with these?" she asked. "I mean, why not guns?"

Done dressing, Rinkah snatched her daggers out of Charlotte's fingers, sticking them back into her thigh sheaths. "The soldiers of Hoshido frequently wear reflectors and energy shields, but nothing that protects them against a blade through the gut," she explained, matter-of-fact.

Charlotte made a sound of understanding. "Hm, I suppose. But that's assuming that you can even get _close_ enough—when they're raining down artillery on you from afar, without a gun you can't even counter."

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

"...Perhaps," Rinkah began, sounding like the words physically pained her, "I should broaden my horizons."

"And perhaps," Charlotte said, offering a hand to Rinkah, "I should broaden mine."

They shook on it.

\- -

When they returned to the control room, Ranulf had draped over Benoit's shoulders and Lethe and Lyre had each commandeered half of his lap. The man himself had pulled up a map of the Kingdom of Hoshido over the coffee table, the bluish static-filled light of the ancient projectors casting a soft, unnatural glow onto his features.

“You're finally done,” Benoit grumbled. “I was beginning to hope that you'd decided _not_ to invade Hoshido, after all.”

Charlotte gasped histrionically, clasping her hands to her chest. “Does that mean you’ll come along?”

Benoit lowered his head, looking away. “Yeah, yeah. _Someone’s_ gotta play damage control.” He grunted as Charlotte punched him in the shoulder with a little too much force to be strictly friendly.

Rinkah leaned over the table, putting her finger to the glass to move the map around. (“What are you, my grandma?” Charlotte teased. Rinkah paused in her work to direct towards Charlotte a gesture very much unsuitable for grandmothers.) A few awkward, exaggerated hand motions later, the map opened into a filtered view of a planet—the Flame Tribe's territory showed as the sole neutral-yellow splotch, a single country amidst an encroaching rash of Hoshidan red.

"The lord who owns the rest of the planet wants to take the Land of Fire for himself," Rinkah explained, searching through the many information tabs until she found one that pulled up an info page of a fox-faced, ginger-haired man, bedecked in gold eyeliner and wearing a roguish smirk. "That's him—Nishiki, of the Kitsune Commonwealth."

"Wow," Charlotte said, curling her lip. "I wanna deck him _already_."

Rinkah nodded sagely. "After I'm done with him, I'll be sure to let you have a shot, as thanks. Without your troops, I would never have the chance to get to him in the first place."

"Hey, no probl—" Charlotte paused, exchanging a stare with Benoit. "Wait. Troops?"

Rinkah furrowed her brow. "Yes, troops. Nohrian soldiers? Do you not call a group of soldiers a 'troop' in this part of the universe?"

"No—wait—what? Since when were we getting soldiers? I thought we were just getting in there and thrashing this dude!"

Rinkah turned to face Charlotte fully, disbelief written across her features. "Are you _crazy_? If he could be defeated with just two, three people, don't you think the warriors of the Flame Tribe would've easily beaten him?"

" _I_ don't fucking know what the Flame Tribe's like," Charlotte snapped. "I thought that maybe you were the exception!"

Benoit raised his hand, waiting until both heads had swiveled towards him. "Miss Rinkah. Can you explain exactly _how_ the Flame Tribe got into this situation? For the past millennium, the Flame Tribe has been strictly isolationist, and Hoshido has respected those boundaries. What changed?"

Rinkah frowned, glancing back down at the table for a second before crossing her arms. “The Land of Fire recently suffered a famine, and we requested aid from the Kitsune Commonwealth. They did give us food supplies and helped to revitalize the soil for the next crop—but they expected repayment.

“They claimed that the Flame Tribe would’ve perished without their help, and demanded a decade’s payment in tribute. When we refused, they launched an attack; their drones sprayed poison onto our fields, and their army laid siege to our capital.” Rinkah clenched her fist, staring at it as if it had personally offended her. “If they had faced us in honorable combat, they would’ve been no match for us. Instead, they made their machines fight for them while they hid in their forts.

“The Flame Tribe has not surrendered—as if we would ever proclaim ourselves inferior to those cowards—but we’re running out of food, not to mention able-bodied soldiers. Our communications systems have been blocked by the Kitsunes, and so to get help I had to sneak out of the capital. They noticed me, obviously, and pursued me—it seems that they intend to take me as a hostage to force my father to sign over the Flame Tribe's lands." She laid her hands back down on the table, gripping the edges. "And that's why I need the help of the Nohrian Empire. I can only hope that after this is all over, Nohr will not place us in a similar situation."

A heavy silence reigned over the room. Finally, Charlotte cleared her throat. "Listen," she said, clasping her hands together earnestly. "I think you've got the wrong people."

Benny made a soft noise of agreement. "We're just border guards—the lowest-ranked soldiers there are. The only 'troops' under our command are the few AI inside the station."

Rinkah tensed, looking back and forth between the two Nohrians. "But surely there's a way you can let me talk to someone who _can_ help?"

Another minute of pregnant silence passed, punctuated only by a whispered " _please_ " from Rinkah.

Charlotte threw her hands up. "Fine, fine. Let me just make a call, and we'll see what happens, okay? Don't _ever_ grovel like that again, it doesn't suit you." She stormed out of the control room, the automated door sliding soundlessly shut behind her.

\- -

"Why, if it isn't Charlotte!" A harried-looking man blinked into view on the wall screen, his features washed out by the lush maroon curtains behind him.

Charlotte giggled brightly, toying with her hair. "Laslow, my sweet! You look as handsome as _ever_!"

Laslow's cheeks pinked, and he self-consciously tucked a stray hair behind his ear. "I'm nothing compared to a beautiful flower like yourself, Charlotte."

Charlotte folded her hands over her chest. "Oh _stop it_ , you _tease_! You're making me blush!" She snuggled deeper into the pillows on her bed—not the ones she usually slept with, of course, but specially ordered _feminine_ ones with frills and lace and _pink_. She herself was dressed in a skimpy little thing of a nightgown, just opaque enough to leave the _really_ naughty bits covered.

Her setup was _perfect_.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your lovely face today? Surely, translight communication is limited, so far from Windmire." _With such a low rank_ , he meant.

Charlotte put on her best pout. "Maybe I just wanted to see you—it _does_ get _awfully_ lonely, all the way out here."

"Aw, Charlotte, I'm so sorry to hear that. If you were only closer, I'd offer to alleviate that loneliness with a nice chat over tea, but one of the banes of being part of such a great empire are the great _distances_ that come with 92 planets—"

"Ah! I just had the _best_ idea," Charlotte interrupted, exchanging her pout for a coquettish smile. "How about you visit me? Maybe with some of your friends—the more company the better! Say, I was thinking maybe a _huuge_ party—with hundreds of guests! What do you think?"

Laslow bit his lip, looking away. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm afraid my duties in the castle are too numerous at the moment to request leave, what with the preparations for the trip to Izumo...Perhaps I'll take you up on that offer in a year or so?"

"That's too _late_ ," Charlotte snapped viciously, "I need those soldiers _now_."

Laslow flinched, staring at her with wide eyes. "Ch-charlotte?"

 _Shit_. Charlotte eased her expression into one of demure regret, casting her eyes down and summoning some tears. "Ah...I apologize for shouting like that, Laslow. It was terribly unladylike of me."

"No, it's fine." Laslow smiled reassuringly, though his expression seemed a tad strained. "But what do you mean, you need soldiers? Do you feel like you're in danger? Is there trouble at the border?"

Charlotte worried at her lip. "A member of the Flame Tribe came to our station asking for help. She said that a mean Hoshidan lord is trying to take over their country, and that she needs Nohr's help to fight them back." She looked up into the camera, a tiny minuscule finger movement directing the room's lights to perfectly reflect off of the tears in her eyes. " _Please_ , Laslow...you can't just sit back and let Hoshido do such a dastardly thing!"

Laslow's expression turned pained. "Believe me when I say that I would help if I could. But I can't move the King's Army without his permission, and you know how Nohr's foreign policy is..."

"Laslow! Where did you go?" A muffled voice filtered past the thick curtains. "I swear, if you're flirting when you should be working _yet again_ , I'll have you—"

"Coming, Prince Xander! I assure you, I am attending to purely business matters!" Laslow offered Charlotte an apologetic grin. "I'll bring the topic up with Prince Xander, and see if he can convince the king to send support troops to the Land of Fire. Sorry I couldn't help more." A louder shout of his name made Laslow jump, giving a last quick wave to the camera and terminating the connection.

 _Call ended_ , the software declared redundantly, and Charlotte screamed her frustrations into her pillow.

She went at it for a solid minute, too, then grabbed her hand mirror from her nightstand, fixed up her makeup, and gingerly scrolled through her contacts list in search of a certain childhood acquaintance. Her last translight call of the _year_ , and it had to be to _this guy—_ the Flame Tribe had better construct a statue of her in the capital, after all this was done.

\- -

Of all reactions, the last thing she expected was for Niles to burst out laughing.

Charlotte spluttered, her act completely shattered. " _Hey!_ What gives? I dressed up _just for you_ , you punk!"

Niles made a big show of wiping away imaginary tears, finally recovering enough from his fit to wheeze out, "Alright, what do you want, Charlotte? It's not every day that you try out your seduction tactics on _me_ , of all people."

Charlotte scowled at him for a few more moments, before getting to business. "You've got connections, right? I need as many fighters as you can get me—gangs, outlaws, what _ever_ , as long as they won't stab me in the back. I'll pay their fees, of course, within reason." _Or rather, Rinkah will. Hopefully the Flame Tribe's coffers are fuller than their armies._

"Sorry, love, I'm not about that life anymore. I've got a nice, stable job under Lord Leo now, and I'm not returning to my life as 'Zero' for a tiny country in the middle of nowhere."

"Lord Leo? Is that who you're manwhoring yourself out to now?" Charlotte sneered, then blinked. "Wait. How do you know what I need the fighters for?"

Niles smirked. "Why, I overheard Laslow talking to Prince Xander about it, of course!"

" _Laslow_ ? What're you doing in _Windmire_ —" Charlotte froze and wait, she _knew_ those maroon curtains looked familiar—

Niles grinned wolfishly.

"You work for _the_ Lord Leo?!" Charlotte screeched, making Niles wince as he adjusted the volume on his earpiece. "As in, _Prince Leo_?"

"You got it, girl. I knew you could figure it out."

Charlotte let out a sound reminiscent of a dying cat. "How the _fuck_ did you climb up there before _I_ did?"

"I've been telling you all this time—no one falls for your act. Sometimes you just have to have get _down and dirty_ , to get what you want." Niles winked, or maybe he just blinked—she couldn't tell, what with that antiquated eyepatch of his. Seriously, why didn't he just get an eye transplant? Was he trying to be edgy or something?

"Niles, not you too. Get back over here!" A higher voice transmitted through the microphone, tinny from distance.

"Hm. Guess that's my cue. Ta- _ta_ , Charlotte! Call me again someday, and we can talk about much more _ravishing_ topics." Niles blew a kiss at the camera and terminated the connection.

This time, Charlotte didn't even bother with the pillow.

\- -

As soon as she left her room, Benoit shoved a cup of tea into her hands. "My turn to try," he said, and headed into his own quarters.

"I'm guessing it didn't go well?" Rinkah asked, sighing, as Charlotte sank into the control room couch.

" _Shush_ ," Charlotte growled, throwing back her tea as if it were liquor. It wasn't, regrettably. She _really_ needed a drink right now.

\- -

Thirty minutes later, Benoit reentered the control room. "I have good news and bad news," he said.

"Good news first, _please_ ," Charlotte pleaded, her voice muffled by the cabinet her head was inside. Where _did_ they keep their alcohol?

"What are you—" Benoit sighed. "You know what, I don't need to know. The good news is that both my calls were successful—we've got ourselves some allies."

Rinkah let out a relieved laugh. “That’s fantastic—”

“—the bad news is, we have exactly two allies.” Benoit winced. "Sorry. I don't have many connections, not like Charlotte does."

There would've been crickets chirping, if there were such things as crickets on a remote security station like this. Charlotte summoned an air of false positivity into her words. "Well. I suppose we'll have to make do with the numbers we have. Two more fighters is double the amount we had before, right?"

Rinkah raised an incredulous eyebrow.

Charlotte exhaled loudly. "Yeah, we're screwed."

\- -

Three days later, two taxis landed on the planet.  A prepubescent teenager stepped daintily down from one, surveying her surroundings coolly.  The other taxi's passenger was a man in his twenties—he had two twitching ears atop his head, and a small tail protruding from his rear.

"Benny," Charlotte hissed through her teeth. "You summoned a _child_ and a fucking _furry_ . What the _fuck_ are _they_ supposed to do?"

Benoit cleared his throat as the first person neared. "This is Nyx, the owner of the medicine store I used to work at."

"The _owner_? How old _are_ you?"

Nyx fixed Charlotte with a scathing glare. "I am one _hundred_ years old," she snarled. (Charlotte really couldn't tell if she was kidding.) She turned to Benoit. "It's nice to see you again, Benoit."

Benoit's answer was interrupted by a black-and-white blur tackling him, with such force that it made him stumble a few steps. "Benny! My boy! I missed you _so_ much!"

" _Hey_ ," Charlotte growled. "Only _I_ get to call him Benny."

Benoit lightly pushed the newcomer's hand away from his face. "This is Keaton, a prince of Mount Garou."

"A...prince?" Charlotte immediately straightened, twirling her hair. "Oh, excuse my poor manners! I didn't know that my darling Benny kept such fine company!" She offered her best smile, slight finger movements frantically signaling the station's AI to prepare the highest-quality tea they had. "Come in! The atmosphere's rather dreary out here—let's talk inside, why don't we?"

\- -

"So, let me get this straight," the little girl—Nyx, was she?—said. "You want to _storm into Hoshido_ , _fight an entire army,_ and _survive_?"

Charlotte sniffed. "Well, when you put it _that_ way..."

"This is insane," Nyx snapped, casting Benoit an exasperated look. He shrugged back at her, sipping at his tea. "Benoit, I thought you were smarter than this. Why are you keeping the company of the likes of _her_?"

"I guess I got caught in the hype," Benoit said, ignoring Charlotte's indignant squawk. "Do you have any better plans, though?"

"Yes. Drop this entire ridiculous notion, and tell the Flame Tribe to find other people to help them."

Rinkah scowled. "If that was an option, I would've taken it."

"Hey, hey, stop fighting! _I've_ got a plan." Keaton balked as all four of the others turned to him, nearly dropping the cat toy he had in his hand. (What type of prince _was_ he?) "Why are you looking at me like that? I've got brains too, you know."

Benoit made a motion for him to continue.

Keaton grinned, confidence restored. "So, you wanna fight Nishiki, right? Well, he's going to be at Izumo for the _huge_ party that's happening in a week—we of the Garou really don't like the Kitsunes, you see, and my dad's been complaining for _months_ about having to see Nishiki." He scratched at his nose. "The only problem is, there's no way for you guys to get tickets. Only nobility and royal retainers are allowed to attend, along with their partners if they're high enough on the guest list.  Unfortunately, the Garou are only allowed to bring ourselves, and we don't have retainers anyways."

Rinkah groaned. "Then we're back to square one, aren't we?"

_I'm afraid my duties in the castle are too numerous at the moment to request leave, what with the preparations for the trip to Izumo..._

"Wait," Charlotte said, standing up abruptly. "Laslow's a royal retainer."

Benoit let out a small sound of realization. "A very _single_ royal retainer."

"That's right." Charlotte grinned, immediately pulling up the messaging software on the control room's screen. At the painfully slow speed of light, her message would take hours to reach Windmire—and even more to return. She had to act fast. "Izumo, here I come!"

**Author's Note:**

> yES I KNOW THAT WAS A TERRIBLE ENDING. Surprise, it wasn't an ending! Second chapter will be up soon (because I'm a horrible person who can't meet my deadlines...), thank you for your patience!


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